He flickered his gaze back to Daria.
Her features were so opaque he might have conjured her transformative joy from his own magic. He’d erased her smile.NotLyon. Not anyone else—Argyllhimself.
What a…detestablefeeling for a rake like himself.
Daria, for her part, embodied poise, with but one tiny tell.
Argyll caught the way she turned the nail of her shooting finger into a weapon against the soft pad of her thumb.
Something twisted beneath his sternum.
Daria followed his focus downwards. She swiftly flattened her hands at her sides.
He cleared his throat. “Apologies.” A week of many,manyfirsts.
“To me or Lord Lyon?”
“Lord Lyon?Pfft. He can go straight to the devil, and will, based on his sorry existence.”
Daria took that in. “He is headed for hell and did us the favor of stopping to perform our marriage?” She smiled. “Efficient.”
Argyll paused a beat. His solemn bride making a joke.
He barked with laughter.
Once it passed, his slender but formidable bride signaled for Lyon to resume. “As you were, Lord Lyon.”
“First, it was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy Name…”
Argyll leaned and spoke in lower tones. “I wasn’t.”
“I know.”
“Secondly, it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication; that such persons as have not the gift of continency might marry…”
She couldn’t possibly. “What is it you know, little raven?” he asked, a small smile curving his mouth.
“You were trying to assure me you will not leave me at the altar.”
He started.
“Not an altar,” she blurted, “in the figurative sense. Were you not?” Her eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. “Unless you are having second thoughts?”
Second, third, fourth, and fifth.
“In which case, we should let Lord Lyon know.” Daria slid regret-filled eyes toward the officiant. She nibbled at the corner of her index finger. “Soon.”
Goodness. The baffling creature was not much of a conversationalist, yet she managed quite well with herself.
“Though it would be remiss if I did not remind you—”
“Our fates are entwined?” His mouth tipped wryly.
“Exactly.” Daria paused. “Was that what you were going to say?”
“Which part?” he asked, deadpan.
She crinkled her pert nose.
